When Darkness Comes
by Brooke'sBlueTuesdays
Summary: Take: - James Parsons (one quick-witted and impressively unathletic boy) - Grace Mackenzie (a girl who burns in her sleep and swears in Swedish) - one missing girl - catacombs - literally the best song in the world - imminent doom - people who worship an echidna - and, of course, lots of magic! ...and you've got yourself one hell of an adventure! (And many sugared apricots.)
1. Grace: Burning Nights

**It starts with the door. Always the door. **

**It clicks shut, and I lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. My twelve-year-old self has a thing for birds, and so the walls and ceiling are plastered with posters. Magpies, falcons, sparrows...all fluttering and squabbling for their place on the wall. There is silence as my parents walk back down the hall. Goodnight, Mam. Goodnight, Dad. **

**The seconds, minutes, hours tick by. Am I dreaming? Am I awake? I turn my head to the other door, between my bookshelves. In this room, in her cot, my baby sister Rose is sleeping. Goodnight, Rosie. She can say certain words now – "Mammy", "Dada." She can't say my name yet, because Grace is too tricky, but "Grey" will have to do. **

**The darkness seeps through the walls as it gets later. And then it happens. **

**A roaring, a crackling. A rustling. Like wings beating against eachother. The thick smell is almost instant. Where is it coming from? The hallway. There is a faint scream, and I sit up. It's happening. **

**I'm only twelve, but I've been told this all my life; if there's a fire, get out. Out the window, out the door. Out. Out. Get out. **

**Rose. **

**So I do the stupid thing, of course I do the stupid thing. I race to her bedroom door. I can save her. I will save her. The roaring is louder now. Smoke in the room. I'm panicking, I know I am, and there's no-one here to help me. If ever there was a bad time to have a panic attack...the more smoke I breathe, the worse it is for me.**

**And so I forget. I don't feel the door. I swing it open, reach inside. **

**Fire.**

**The pain is the fire, the fire is the pain. I fall back with a scream, and the fire, it's everywhere. The window. The window. Escape. Rose. Get out. Out. The fire. Burning. Rose. Get out.**

**The smoke is everywhere, I can't think, the fire so loud I couldn't hear my own thoughts anyway. I'm on my back. It feels like my hands are on fire – maybe they are – and the pain is paralysing. I'm on my back. Looking up at the ceiling. The birds are falling from the sky. They're burning. I can't think. The smoke is everywhere.**

**A scream.**

**I'm**** in bed, I'm awake. I'm awake, I'm awake, it's alright. I'm sitting up, clutching the duvet, gasping as the scream dies on my lips. I'm awake. It was a dream. This time, it was a dream. **

**The hangings on the four-poster bed are open, and I can see the other girls in the dorm. I almost feel sorry for them, except they haven't checked on me for about a year now. They're used to the nightmares now.**

**I slowly let go of the duvet, and focus on my breathing. In. Out. I'm alright. Just a dream. I'm safe, I'm not burning. **

**But I am, I think, as I slide back down onto my pillow and stare up at the window above my bed. Every night I burn. **

**It has been three years. I'm almost fifteen years old. My parents and Rose are dead and gone, and I'm here. Here, at Hogwarts, where every night I burn in my sleep, and every day I am alone. No-one wants to be friends with the screaming Gryffindor girl, now, do they?**

**What a tragedy, the news reporters had all said. And how very lucky I am. **

**Tragedy? Yes. Lucky? I'm not so sure. **

**I carry them with me everywhere. A locket contains a photo of Mam, Dad and Rosie, all smiling through the glass. And I carry them within me, as well. Perhaps not in such a cheesy way, either. I'll swear in Swedish like Dad whenever I'm vexed at something. I have my Mam's ash-blonde curls and grey eyes. And I'm reminded of Rosie whenever I see the scars on my wrists...the burn scars that ripple like white streaks, from my wrists to my elbows. So lucky, they said. It could have been my face.**

**Dear God. Sometimes forgetting seems like the finest luxury in the world. Good morning, everyone.**


	2. James: In Which Ari Goes Missing

Ariana was missing. James Parsons was sure of it.

It has started on the train. Ariana had been nowhere to be seen. James had checked up and down the corridor at least three times, before giving up.

"Chill out," Caleb had said. Caleb had been James's best mate from day one at Hogwarts. His wicked sense of humour rivaled James's own, and James could easily imagine they'd go flatting together once they left Hogwarts. "Your girlfriend is probably hiding at the other end of the train."

"She's not my -" James began, but of course there was no point. True, Ari was technically not his girlfriend. But it was only a matter of time...all summer, they had emailed each other pictures from their holidays. She was so pretty – tall, with glossy, dark hair and eyes the colour of chocolate. James had been looking forward to finally seeing her again, on the train at the start of their fourth year (although James was fifteen, his birthday was timed so he was still in his fourth year, while Caleb was in his fifth). And yet there he was, in a compartment with Caleb and Myra – Caleb's latest girlfriend – surrounded by Chocolate Frog wrappers, but with Ariana absent.

The Welcoming Feast had been even more worrying. The seat next to James that would normally have been taken up by Ari was occupied by someone else. Naturally, he had asked around, but to no result.

It was the next morning – the first day back at Hogwarts – that James finally realised that something was wrong. He asked all four girls from the Gryffindor fourth-year dorm if they had seem Ariana. Myra had rolled her eyes, which annoyed him to no end. What did Caleb _see _in her? Every time she tossed her perfectly straightened red hair, it set James's teeth on edge.

"Maybe she stayed the night somewhere else," she gushed. Myra had to be the only person on _earth _who could manage to gush every word she spoke.

The other girls had been no help, either. Pippa; the resident Gryffindor gossip; had no idea. The twins, Eve and Susan, had shook their heads (at the same time, naturally), then wandered off to breakfast.

The last girl was the transfer from Sweden – Grace, he thought her name was – wasn't much better. Grace was a strange one. She had moved to Hogwarts a year ago. No-one knew much about Grace, but then again...no-one wanted to. Myra called her the Mouse, because she rarely spoke. James knew barely anything about Grace. Perhaps he ought to ask her about her life...but right now, there were more important matters on his hands.

"Hey...um, Grace, is it? Have you seen Ariana?"

She blinked up at him with large, grey eyes. God, she was tiny. James was one of the tallest in his year, and Grace was definitely the smallest. She didn't even come up to his shoulders.

"No," she said finally. "I haven't. Is she missing?" Her Swedish accent was faint but noticeable.

"No," James said, "I'm sure she's fine."

"Alright," Grace said quietly. "Sorry I couldn't be of more help, I suppose." She adjusted the strap of her bag (how did she carry that thing? Surely it weighed more than she did), and walked out of the common room.

The problem with being the class clown, James decided after Herbology, was that people rarely took you seriously. Everyone was sure he was joking about Ariana, which was extremely irritating. There was only one thing for it.

"See you at Potions," James said to Caleb as they reached the bottom of a flight of stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," James said dismissively, grinning as Caleb exaggerated a suspicious expression. "I'll be back in ten minutes." He turned the corner, and hurried down a particularly polished corridor. If Ariana was missing, then this called for desperate measures. He would have to inform the Headmistress.

"How did your mystery mission go?" Caleb asked as James dropped into an armchair in the common room, Potions homework in one hand.

"Um. Well. Badly. I'm not sure," he admitted. "Here's the thing, Cal -"

"Don't call me Cal."

"Here's the thing," James repeated, grinning. "I asked the Headmistress, and she basically said that Ari wasn't coming back."

"What? Seriously?"

"No way!" Myra added from the corner, making James jump then scowl.

"It's true," he said. "I mean, I told her she was probably missing or something, and then she just said that Ariana had gone to live with relatives in Australia."

"What?" Caleb said again. "Australia? I didn't know she had relatives there."

"Neither did I," James said slowly. "That's the weird bit. The Headmistress practically pushed me out of the door."

"Why wouldn't she tell you?" Myra gushed. Naturally.

"Dunno. It's really weird, we've been emailing all summer." James quickly regretted saying this as Myra and Caleb exchanged knowing looks.

"I'll miss her," Myra said thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Caleb said. "She was really funny."

James looked at them both.

"Don't you think it's weird, though?"

"In what way?"

"Well...she didn't even mention she was leaving. Didn't even say goodbye. And I've _never _heard her talk about relatives in Australia. Ever!"

Caleb tugged at a strand of his short, dark hair. "It is pretty weird. Still. That's what the Headmistress said, yeah?"

"Yeah." James kicked the chair beside his own. "I mean...England's so far away from Australia." He didn't add the burning question on his mind – would he ever see her again?

"Don't you have her email?" Myra said. James paused.

"Oh yeah. Right."

"Well then," Myra said with exaggerated patience, "email her and ask what is going on. It's as simple as that."

James willed himself not to kill her, and stood up.

"Right," he said. "Um, I'll see you guys at dinner. I'll go to the Tower and try."

"Bye," Myra said, and waved at Pippa, who had just walked into the common room. James cringed as he wondered how long it would take for Myra to spread the news to Pippa (and therefore to the whole school).

"She went WHERE?" came a cry from behind him.

Not long, apparently.

The Tower was situated in the east wing of Hogwarts. Short, large and perfectly rounded, it was the result of a technological win in the wizarding world. James wasn't much of a nerd, but Dylan (a fellow Gryffindor) knew literally everything about the Great Connection, so James was well filled in on the details.

In 2010, a bunch of wizards invented Connectors, which enabled small amounts of power to be used in places with high amounts of magic. This meant that the Internet could be accessed by wizards. Naturally, about a million laws had been placed to reinforce the Statute of Secrecy online. The main point was this – the students of Hogwarts finally had Internet.

Or so everyone had thought, until it was revealed that students would be allowed email, and a station would be set up where students could use school computers to contact family and friends. At first, of course, there were complaints, as everyone was expecting Facebook at least. However, email was a huge improvement, and James wasn't complaining.

Climbing up the steps to the Tower (why did everyone call it the Tower? As if there weren't enough Towers in Hogwarts already), James pushed the door open.

The large, old-fashioned computers were arranged in a circle around a long desk that ran around the entire circumference of the round room. Aside from himself, the room was empty today, aside from Dylan, who was examining a piece of machinery that looked like it had been forcibly removed from a computer.

"Hey," James said. Dylan jumped.

"Ah," he said. "It's you." He bit his lip.

"Don't worry," James said. "I didn't see anything." Dylan grinned, and continued...whatever he was doing. James had learned not to ask.

James slid onto a seat and started a computer up. It made a soft purring sound as the screen flashed from dark to an off-grey. He logged into his email, and – after a short hesitation – began to write.

**to: glitterari **

**from: jamesisnotalizard **

**Hey Ari,**

**What's up? I thought you were, um, starting your fourth year at Hogwarts. You're not here, and basically the Headmistress says you're at Australia. Are you really? Is there something I've missed?**

**- James.**


	3. Grace: Grey Summers

**When I finally get out of bed (wouldn't want to be late to classes on my first day back), a Gryffindor in my year is waiting at the bottom of the stairs. I know who he is. In fact, I know who everyone here is. If they know who I am, though...that's another question...**

"**Hey...um, Grace, is it? Have you seen Ariana?"**

**I'm almost surprised that he knew my name. It's been exactly a year since I first arrived here, so in theory, most people should be able to remember something as simple as Grace Mackenzie...I know I've picked up on everyone else's names. This boy in front of me is James Parsons. The class clown, rarely seen without his best mate in the year above us; Caleb. And Ariana. I know Ariana Fox; she shares a dorm with me. While we've never actually spoken, I've heard her and the others chatting about boys and makeup. She's very pretty, and so I'm not surprised that James Parsons is looking for her.**

**I tell him that I don't know where she is, and then hurry out of the common room. He's so tall. And trust me – I'm used to people being taller than me. Small, slender and so short that I'm mistaken for a second-year at times, my size makes it easy to stay un-noticed. If it weren't for my pale blonde curls, which grew past my shoulders a long time ago. I'm almost like a fairy-tale princess...except for my wrists, covered in burns, and my grey eyes. **

**I do wonder about Ariana for the rest of the day, as I collect a pile of homework at Potions. She hadn't been in bed when I woke up. In fact...I hadn't seen her at all. Then again – I hadn't exactly been looking for her. It was nothing, probably. Just James Parsons looking for his girlfriend, probably. James is fifteen, I think, but he's still in fourth year...just like me. I'll be fifteen in August, which will be of absolutely no importance to anyone at all. **

**After I was dragged from a burning house by firefighters in November 2012, the question hung in the air like smoke – where was I to go? My possessions destroyed (save the ratty pajamas I was wearing and a locket I'd fallen asleep with), my family dead (although I hadn't processed any of this yet)...had I any more family? Would a foster family have to be found? In the end, it was finally realised that – save my Mam's parents, who were both slightly demented and being cared for at a home for the elderly – I had no remaining relatives. Brilliant. **

**It was several months later (the truth sinking in, the nightmares making their debut appearance), that a home was found for me. A new start, they suggested. And had they ever told me, Grace, how lucky I was? Yes, social workers. You had. **

**Enter the Turners. I was to call them Aunt and Uncle Turner. They lived in a whitewashed house in Surrey, and had several lovely children. I was living there in no time. And it was then – and only then – that it finally hit me. They have very ****_many _****of these lovely children. As in...eight. **

**Aunt Turner and Uncle Turner (and the eight little Turners) were part of a religious "family" called the Children of the Dawn. Almost thirteen, the problem with this was beginning to dawn on me. Prayers every evening. Church on Sundays. And then they began to make me join in. **

**No bright colours. No jeans, even. I was bought long, grey skirts and my hair was to be braided and covered...always. Including in public. **

**Thing is, I am most definitely an atheist. And the Turners didn't like hearing that. It took three weeks of being prayed over for me to realise that the best thing was to stay silent. After all – I would be spending most of my time at Hogwarts.**

**This was the trickiest part. Some Ministry officials (carefully dressed in suits, not robes) were sent to explain this to Aunt and Uncle Turner. All mentions of magic were absent as they told them that my parents had enrolled me in boarding school. All expenses already paid, they added. And...with eight children already...of course they agreed.**

**So – there you have it. This is how my summers go. Wearing all grey, hair braided, embroidering and cooking. Because that's all women are meant to do, according to Uncle Turner. But it's only for the summer. And in the summer, I try to stay out of sight. When I'm on my own, I write songs and count down the days until I can wear my robes and practise magic. Studying was out of the question in the summer anyway. Any sight of a wand or magical textbooks...and who knows what they might do to me? As far as they know, I'm a completely normal girl. And that's how I like to keep it.**

**And it's the same here. No drama for me, thanks. No-one talks to me at Hogwarts, and I'm okay with that. I do my work, I write the occasional song, and if anyone asks...I never mention the fire. Because the last thing I need is more attention. At school, I'm the Mouse. In the summer, I'm obedient and dressed reluctantly in grey. And while happiness isn't part of the equation...I'm managing. For now.**


	4. James: In Which Things Get Interesting

**To: jamesisnotalizard**

**From: glitterari**

**Hey James,**

**Yes, it's true. Mum and Dad decided to move to Australia. Sorry I didn't tell you. Things were really busy, and I had to pack. I'm really sorry about this. Hope your fourth year is going well.**

**Ariana.**

"It's not right," James said to Caleb as they made their way up a narrow flight of stairs to the Divination classroom. He could almost hear Caleb roll his eyes.

"What's not right? You got the email – it's official. Your girlfriend is in Australia."

"Well – yeah," he said, pausing to catch his breath. James was impressively unathletic, and was still indignant that four years of climbing these staircases hadn't gotten him fit yet.

"So what's the problem?" Caleb said patiently, watching as James puffed and pushed a strand of copper hair out of the way.

"I reckon he's just hurt that Ari didn't say anything," said a voice from behind them. The two of them jumped as Dylan passed them on the stairs. "It was pretty tactless, and besides...James has been friends with her since second year."

"How," James said, finally straightening up, "do you know all that?"

"Pippa told me." Dylan shrugged and continued up the stairs. Caleb shook his head.

"As I was saying," James said, walking up the last stretch of carpeted steps, "It's just weird, Caleb. I mean...the email didn't even sound like her."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning she signed it 'Ariana' instead of 'Ari.' Meaning she sent me a couple of sentences..."

"...When normally, she never shuts up," Caleb finished thoughtfully.

"Exactly." The boys reached the Divination trapdoor, where a small crowd of students were waiting for the ladder to be lowered. "It just doesn't make sense. Ariana would never do that, I'm sure."

"True," Myra said, appearing next to Caleb and kissing his cheek. "But then again, James...you were never going to take something like that well."

"What does that even mean?" James demanded, willing himself to be patient.

"It means," Myra said matter-of-factly, "that she was almost-but-techically-not-quite your girlfriend...and then she just moved away without warning. You were bound to question it, weren't you?"

As much as James despised every element of what she said, Myra did have a point. Of course he would have doubted it. He frowned, and opened his mouth to say something when the trapdoor opened. A ladder slid down and the students began to climb. Myra rushed forward, and Caleb went after her. At the back of the forming line, James tried to make sense of what Myra had said. Was she right? Was he just in denial that his almost-but-technically-not-quite girlfriend had moved away? After all...she had emailed, and the Headmistress herself, in all her dark-haired, silver-robed glory, had told him so. He sighed a little and did his best to shake away the thoughts. It was the start of the year...and he had a lot of work to catch up on. He would worry about Ari later.

For the rest of the week, things were relatively quiet. Classes seemed so much harder than they had last year. Care of Magical Creatures, James's favourite class, was particularly enjoyable, as it was still warm and sunny outside. They were learning about the eating habits of Nifflers, which James was finding fascinating. However, he still couldn't stop worrying about Ari. He had sent her three emails that week, all something along the lines of "What's going on? How are you?". So far, there had been no reply.

Did she really not fancy him? Was this why she wasn't talking to him? Why didn't she say? It all seemed to become clearer with each passing day – she wasn't coming back, and she didn't fancy him. End of story.

Until Wednesday.

Caleb had gone off to Quidditch practise (it went without saying that James was in no athletic state to care about Quidditch), and so James had spent the evening at the library, looking up pictures of Nifflers for an assignment. As he made his way back to the dorm, he passed two of the teachers – Professor Slughorn, the practically ancient Potions master, and Professor Betelguex, the Astronomy teacher – who were talking outside the door to the hospital wing.

"The Foxes didn't want to..."

James froze.

"Everything alright, Mr. Parsons?" Professor Betelguex said quickly.

"Yes," James muttered, and walked around the corner, eyes narrowed. What was that? About the Foxes? What did the teachers know about Ari? He leaned back against the stone wall and strained to catch what he could of the conversation.

"Their daughter, Ariana..."

"And they say they can find the star?"

"...They wanted her safe..."

"And – the students here?"

"Fine...so long as they don't know...don't try to find it."

"And who will retrieve...?"

"One of us, I imagine."

James started to walk down the hall as the voices died, heart pounding at the thought of being caught. What the hell had he just heard? He slipped behind a tapestry and continued down a corridor. Why did Ariana's parents want her safe? What was so dangerous that she couldn't stay? And what was the 'star'? Why did it need to be retrieved? Was it the 'star' that was dangerous?

He made a note to tell Caleb everything – when Myra wasn't there, of course. If everyone found out he'd been eavesdropping, word would get back to the teachers somehow. The feeling that something was wrong had resurfaced, as well as a handful of new questions.

"And there's no chance the teachers had been smoking something funny?" Caleb asked. He and James were back in the common room. James had waited up until Caleb had returned. The moon could be seen from the window. All was silent and dark, and the fire had died. They had lit one of the hanging lanterns for light.

"No," James said, trying not to grin. "They weren't. But whatever the star is, the Headmistress knows about it...which explains why she was so blunt when I asked her."

"So they're trying to find a star?"

"I guess."

"Like...a literal star? Or some sort of metaphorical kind of thing? Because," Caleb said quietly, "I don't see how you can lose a star."

"I know. It's all pretty weird. Whatever the star is, though – it's dangerous. It's somewhere around Hogwarts."

"How do you know – ?"

"Because they said the Foxes wanted Ari away from here to be safe, remember?"

"Ah."

"So it's in Hogwarts. And it's the reason Ariana is gone."

"D'you reckon she really is in Australia?"

"Doubt it. Sounds like they're letting Ari come back when the star is found, then."

"Well then," Caleb said. "You know what this means?"

James leaned forward. "What?"

"It means that we wait until they've found their weird star thing, and then Ariana can come back."

He frowned. "Caleb. Aren't you curious? Isn't there a tiny, miniscule part of you that wants to know what the star-thing is?"

Caleb considered. "Yeah. And there's also a part of me that wants to not be expelled for snooping. Besides. It's dangerous. And didn't you say they said that, so long as we don't go looking for it...we're safe?"

James sighed. Caleb could be annoyingly logical when he wanted to be.

"I suppose. But I still want to know."

"Well," Caleb muttered, "Ari must know something."

"Maybe. Why?"

"Because she lied to you about Australia. What if she's still at home or something? Still in England? She must know something."

James hesitated, then nodded.

"Yeah. She must. I hadn't thought about that. She did lie."

"Are you mad?"

"No. I'm worried. And I want to know what's going on.

**To: glitterari**

**From: jamesisnotalizard.**

**Hey Ari,**

**What's going on? What's this star thing, and why is it dangerous? Are you alright? And are you really in Australia?**

**-James.**


	5. Grace: Musical Remedies

**When I'm feeling stressed – or like I'm on the verge of a panic attack – I try to find a place to sit down and write. The stress melts away, the panic subsides. So long as there's music, it's easy to calm myself. Music is the remedy. Words heal. **

**I have a black folder under my dorm bed of songs. Slow songs, fast songs. Raps, arias, in-between songs. Songs about love and joy, sorrow and anger. Some are painfully cheesy, others artistically obscure. Others...obscure in a not-so-artistic way. That doesn't matter, though. No-one reads my songs, and no-one listens to my MP3 player. Just me. It's what keeps me going when the nightmares are more frequent. The music blocks out the world. Or rather, it blocks me out. **

**The Playlist is a bit of a work-in-progess for me. It's a list of every one of my favourite songs. Muggle artists. Ed Sheeran, Eminem, Sia. I detest all magical bands, because all they ever sing about is magic. Magic isn't something you can find within you. It's something that you can harness, but it isn't part of you. Muggles, now – they sing about love. Truth. The real magic. **

**The Playlist is updated every now and then. After a nightmare; when I wake up and can't fall asleep in fear of returning to the fire; I put in my earphones and add new songs to the Playlist. I think the point of this is...that I'm trying to find the best song. The best song in the world. And I haven't found it yet. I like to think that when I do, I'll be able to see a solution. How to stop the dreams, maybe. How to remember to smile. To make friends, have an adventure. How to not need music. **

**Today is one of those days. In between classes, I turn on the MP3 player and walk down the corridors, listening. The lyrics are so perfectly familiar to me, that I can sing along. When I'm alone, I dance a little. Not proper dancing – just the wave of a hand, a little bounce as I walk. Once I'm in tune with the song, things seem right. **

**Something is going on, though. Not about me. Ariana Fox. She's in Australia – or so I heard from Pippa Ingalls. Which isn't that weird, I guess, but James Parsons seems to think so. Whenever I walk past, he's talking about her and her latest email to Caleb. It does make me wonder...what it would be like. To be so in love with someone that it's all they can think of. To love someone at all. I like to think I can understand love, that I've felt it since the fire … but I haven't. Music doesn't count. Music isn't alive, no matter how much you pour your heart into it. **

**I think I need more.**

**I also think that I need to finish this essay. Annoyingly, I can never write while music is playing – so I have to turn it off. I keep the earphones in, and start to write. The library is so sunny at this time of day. Sunlight is a little like music – it warms you from the inside as well. **

**Have I thought about singing the songs I try to write? No. I can sing – I know I can – but it's not my own music that makes me feel better. I need the stories and feelings of others. Not my own. I think I understand my situation too well to romanticise it. **

_**I'm out of touch; I'm out of luck;**_

**Damn it. Even without the MP3 player on, songs distract me. Shut up, I tell my mind firmly. I have to write. **

_**And out of all these things I've done:**_

**Shut UP.**

_**I think I'll love you better now.**_

**Hmm. Love, right? I imagine a little love would go a long way for me...but forget love. Nobody even knows me. I'm not invisible – I'm just another stranger to them. Being lonely is like the heaviest silence in the world – and no song can drown it out, no matter how hard I try.**


	6. James: In Which I Correspond with Aggie

James had expected to spent the second week of term stressing about the mysterious star and Ariana's email, but he hadn't long to wait at all; there was a reply the very next morning.

**To: jamesisnotalizard**

**From: glitterari**

**James,**

**You need to stop emailing. It's nothing, I swear. I'll be back in school soon. Just don't mention the star again. Not to anyone. If you do, I'm not sure what's going to happen. I'm alright, and no-one is in danger. Just don't go looking for it. **

**Ari.**

"Caleb," he said when the two boys met up between classes (it was such a pain having Caleb in the year above – he was always at a different class). "You were right about Ariana knowing something." James quickly ran Caleb over the email. Caleb looked thoughtful.

"I suppose," he said finally, "the only thing you can really do is wait."

"But -"

"James. It sounds like she's serious. Just leave it."

"Don't you want to know, though?"

"Yes -" Caleb scratched his head, thick eyebrows furrowed. "But if we wait until they find the presumably-metaphorical-star, then she'll be back. That's what she said, right? And then she can tell us."

James scowled. "You're so logical it hurts." The two grinned at eachother, then Caleb turned and started walking the other way.

"See you at dinner."

James nodded at his retreating back, and tried not to sigh out loud.

Things could have gone differently. This entire story could have been rewritten if it hadn't been for James. Ariana would have come back instantly, the star would have been found – whatever it was – and things would have been back to normal. Grace wouldn't even be a part of this story. But she is. Because James couldn't help himself. He was curious – burningly curious – and so he decided to find out.

That afternoon, at the library, James checked every magical encyclopaedia on hand. All he could find was a painfully long entry on astronomy – then again, what was he expecting?

He could always try and eavesdrop again – but there was a chance he could get caught, and then who knows what would happen?

There was only one thing for it.

He had decided not to let Caleb know – at least, for now. Caleb was obviously right about this, and yet James _had _to know. If there was something potentially dangerous in the castle, then he had a right to find out what it was...didn't he? It was his mission to at least determine how safe the students of Hogwarts were. Talking to the teachers was hardly an option, as they already knew about it. Which left him one choice.

Oracle Agatha.

Oracle Agatha (or Aggie, as the students of Hogwarts liked to call her) was basically the equivalent of a Muggle's agony aunt in a magazine. Aggie was a small bronze statue in the middle of a fountain, which was situated in the centre of the courtyards. The deal was that if you wrote a question on a piece of parchment and threw it into the fountain, you would receive a letter from a mystery sender in the next 24 hours with an answer. It was generally used by teenage girls, asking frivolous questions about who liked who – and the teachers had to put a couple of spells on it to keep Aggie from answering homework questions.

James wasn't sure why he hadn't thought of Aggie before. If anyone would be able to help him answer his questions, surely it would be Aggie. The Oracle was the ghost of a sorceress who was, indeed, an agony aunt – however, she was also incredibly wise. James had only ever asked the Oracle once; in his second year, when he had a crush on a fifth-year girl, Leslie Borrower. He had asked, predictably: _"Does Leslie fancy me?" _The reply had come the next morning, on a folded piece of parchment with gold ink. _"No."_ This was possibly why James had never asked the Oracle a question again. If "no" was the best Aggie could do, then what was the point?

The next day, James wrote his question during Transfiguration (quite possibly the most boring class of them all), so when the bell tolled outside, signalling lunchtime, he could throw the parchment into the water when walking past. It had taken several attempts to get it right – there were so many questions to ask. Finally, he settled on the most obvious.

"_What is the star?"_

As he threw the parchment into the fountain, the force of the streams of water sent it beneath the surface. James watched the ink run and the paper thin before the bubbling water obscured his view. Only one thing to do now...once again; wait.

As James walked to the Great Hall for lunch; he bumped into Dylan.

"Oh. Hey." Dylan was holding another piece of machinery. James grinned.

"Aren't you afraid you'll get caught?"

Dylan narrowed his eyes. "How do you know what I'm doing?"

"I don't," James admitted. "I just figure that it must be something pretty terrible. The wires are all ruptured. What did you tear it from?"

Dylan hesitated. "Perhaps one of the computers..."

James narrowed his eyes.

"What are you doing with the computers?"

"Well..." Dylan considered James, then leaned in close, flicking a tiny card out of the machinery. "See this?"

"Yeah...?"

"It's the little Connector. The thing that connects the computer to the Muggle internet."

"Right."

"I've been experimenting – just casting certain spells on it. I reckon I can get it to connect to Google."

"What? That search thing?"

"Yeah. It's like the Oracle, but for Muggles."

James grinned. "Cool. Good luck with that, mate. Hope you don't get caught. Hasn't anyone noticed the hole ripped inside the school computer?"

"Nope. Because I'm the student in charge of managing them, I've just said that one is out of order. So yeah. I'll tell you when I've got it working. Might come in handy."

"Yeah...it could, actually," James admitted. "Thanks, Dylan. So what's for lunch?" The two of them walked into the Great Hall, James's mind drifting once again to the star, and Ari, and the Oracle's letter. When would it arrive?

* * *

**(Hi readers! Thank you for reading :) Just thought I'd add this message to thank you all for being so awesome! Please review, favourite if you like it, follow it if you want to receive messages once a new chapter is up. A rather interesting twist is coming up soon! Love, peace and cabbages! -Brooke)**


	7. Grace: Fallen Stars

**After one year of being here at Hogwarts, this is the first time this has happened; this morning at breakfast, a chocolate-brown school owl fluttered down to my plate with a letter clamped in it's beak. Of course, at first I assumed it was for someone else...but sure enough, ****_Grace Mackenzie _****was written across the front in simple cursive lettering. A letter. For ****_me. _**

**For a second, I'm bewildered, then thrilled – until a thought hits me. I don't know anyone who would want to send me a letter...so it would have to be something official. From the Ministry? Is Grandma dead? Is Pappy?**

**Suddenly the idea of a letter isn't so exciting.**

**I save the letter until after breakfast – when I'm waiting outside Arithmancy early. I unfold the letter, which smells of fresh ink, and scan the page of neat gold lettering.**

"**What the ****_helvete_****..."**

**I look up, making sure no-one is around. I didn't mean to speak aloud, let alone swear, let alone in Swedish...**

**Well – Grandma and Pappy are fine, I assume. The only problem seems to be that this letter makes literally no sense.**

_Dear student,_

_By 'the star' I can only assume you mean the Fallen Star, which refers to a Greek wizarding myth that is uncommonly mentioned in this day and age. _

_In short, the myth tells the story of the Muggle girl Elvire, who one day woke up to a set of unusual powers. Sparks flew from her fingers whenever she grew angry; one day she froze a cup of water solid by looking at it. The mystery was that, when wizards came to test her for powers...they found that her blood was entirely that of a Muggle. She seemed to belong to neither Muggle nor wizarding worlds...the name for her kind – those born with magical powers yet not a drop of magical blood – was the Mai. And Elvire was the first Mai ever recorded in history. _

_It was Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin who feared that Elvire was more powerful than any wizard could ever be. As Hogwarts was the best school for her, Elvire was enrolled there...but Ravenclaw and Slytherin decided to create a way to limit her powers, so she was only as powerful as a normal witch or wizard._

_The Fallen Star (which was named for it's blinding light and unearthly beauty) was a stone taken from the bottom of the lake outside Hogwarts, then cursed by Slytherin and blessed by Ravenclaw. The Star captured the powers of the Mai. The founders of the school knew this was for the best; Elvire could receive the education she deserved, and the students at Hogwarts would not be in danger._

_The Star was hidden in the school, so that it was close enough to capture Elvire's powers, but well-hidden enough to never be found. If the Star was to be destroyed, the Mai's power would reach it's full limits...and their powers could destroy or change the world. It has been so well-protected over the years that even the Headmasters and Headmistresses did not know where it could be found._

_Every generation, a new Mai is born – but they will live their lives as an average witch or wizard, so long as the Star is safe. If the Star is safe – so is wizardkind._

_The Star has become folklore, but there are still some who believe. Student, please do not try to find the Star – there are others out there who would do anything for it, as power clouds the minds of even the greatest wizards._

_Agatha._

"**First of all," I whisper to myself – "Why do I have this?" It all seems relatively believable, and it's a lovely story...but is it really meant for me? I have heard of Oracle Agatha, but I've never asked her anything. Still...the letter had my name on it...**

**I fold the letter back up and slide it into the pocket of my robes; I'll read it again later. I like the idea of something so valuable being hidden inside the castle...but this place is so vast that, even if someone was to look for it...it would take a century to find anyway. Magic can conceal the most conspicuous of things. **

**I don't know why, but I find myself believing this "folklore." I received this for a reason, I'm sure. Perhaps I just need to protect this information until I understand why.**


End file.
